Yugi's lashes fluttered slightly in the dim silver cast of the moon. His gemlike violet eyes held a dull sparkle, pain and confusion present in their depths. "…Yami?" he called softly, his voice coming forth in a raspy mewling. There was no response save the soft patter of rain on the streets, the sidewalks, splashingly assimilated into streams and gutters alike. As his senses returned to some extent, Yugi realized that was where he lay, soaked and shivering: a gutter in downtown Domino City.
"Yami!" the boy cried out once more, a tremor in his voice, "Yami, where are you?" His calls went unheeded and unanswered, swallowed almost instantly into the darkness of the stormy midnight sky. Yugi pulled himself achingly into a sitting position, crawling out of the street and toward the limited shelter of a small overpass, trying to ease the dull pain in his skull. He numbly placed a hand to his head, surprised to see it streaked with blood when he pulled it away.
"Yami…" he whispered once more with tears in his eyes, sinking slowly to the ground, consciousness once again surrendering to the night.
---
Yugi sighed in frustration, finally refolding the useless map he had been consulting for the last hour. "I give up," he groaned to himself, "I'm lost." It struck him as ridiculous, being lost in the city he had grown up in, but nonetheless, he hadn't the slightest idea where he was. It was an irritating feeling.
"Yami is going to be worried if I don't get home soon," he fretted, chewing slightly on his lip. He knew how anxious Yami could become. Perhaps it was because he was no longer on-call anytime, anyplace, but since they had gained separate bodies the darker half had become slightly overprotective. Still, Yugi couldn't help but think that he would have been grateful for the spirit's company as he wandered disorientedly among abandoned warehouses. The sun was beginning to set, casting the city in a hazy golden glow that grayed slightly with the storm clouds threatening the horizon.
"Hey, kid."
Yugi looked up, startled from his thoughts. A man stood before him, possibly in his early twenties, wearing a dark leather jacket with a cigarette in his mouth. He smiled, though it was a cold and cruel expression, and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You look lost. Need some help?"
"N-no… I think I can manage on my own. Thank you anyway, but…"
"Don't be stupid, kid," came a voice from behind him. Yugi spun to face the speaker, fear flickering across his face as he realized that there were about five of these people in all, and they were currently backing him into a dead-end alleyway. "You're lost; anyone can see that. Don't you want some help?"
Yugi's eyes darted over the alley, from the asphalt of the road to the faded bricks of the walls, from the boarded-up windows to the five men encircling him with menace in their eyes. "Not…not from you. That is…I-I don't need your help."
"Doesn't need our help? You hearin' this, Taro? He doesn't want our help!"
The boy realized that the only possible way out of the alley was past the entrance the unknown men were currently blocking. He didn't know if he could get past them, but conversely, he didn't know if they would kill him if he stayed where he was. Quite visible on several of them were assorted knives and other weaponry, gleaming bleakly in the dusky twilight. And from the look in their eyes, these people would have no qualms about using them. However, it seemed worth the risk to make a break for it rather than to remain motionless and have no chance at all.
Gathering his courage, Yugi attempted to dash past them, making his already-diminutive body as small as he could possibly manage in an effort to slip through their human barrier. For a moment he dared hope he could make it, but then several pairs of rough hands grabbed him and forced him to the ground. The boy cried out as a fist struck him, causing the world to spin before his eyes.
"That was pretty gutsy. What's your name, kid?" one of them asked, seeming to be the leader by the way the others backed off. Yugi made no response but to quiver, fingers cold and numb from fear.
"Hey! I asked you your name!" he shouted, suddenly violent as he pulled back a fist and struck at the trembling boy. Yugi felt his hands instinctively come up to cover his face, shielding him from the attack. Abruptly, however, the landing of blows ceased. Yugi lay still for a moment, wanting to be certain the beating was over before he risked peeking out from behind his fingers. After a moment, he dared to glance up, blood blossoming from a gash on his lip.
"You have such beautiful eyes," murmured his attacker in a calm, almost loving voice, as if the previous few seconds had never taken place. "Such beautiful, innocent eyes." He leaned closer, brushing the twinkling crystal of tears from the pale face. Yugi became aware of the fact that the other men had scattered, leaving him alone with this single one, this one who was nearly on top of him, far too close for the crazed look in his eye.
"I can't wait to ruin those eyes."
Yugi gave a muffled cry as strong hands pinned him to the ground, holding his wrists so tightly as to break the fragile bones; swiftly a mouth enveloped his own, tongue exploring the depths of his throat. 'No!' Yugi screamed in his mind, unable to make a perceptible sound, 'No, let me go! Yami! Help me! Yami!'
"Struggle all you like, little angel," came the voice once more, in all its infinite insanity and malice, "I like it best when they resist."
"No!" Yugi cried as those hands tore at him unforgivingly, unrelentingly, as buttons burst and fabric ripped, as clouds gathered ever more darkly, blotting out what was left of the pale sunlight. "Get off! Leave me alone!" The rough asphalt of the alleyway scratched and scraped at his bared skin, leaving bloody trails that his crazed attacker licked at delicately.
"My poor, broken angel," he murmured, fingers cruelly caressing every inch of the boy, unwelcomely entwining himself with the thrashing limbs of the other. "Don't worry. This is where the fun begins." His grip became iron in an instant, trapping the struggling teen beneath his own body.
A muffled gasp was released into the night, swallowed soundlessly into the soft drizzle of rain that had begun to fall, a silent sob taken in by the sky.
---
"Yami!"
The pharaoh turned his head sharply, pupils expanding to make use of the infinitesimal illumination provided by his flashlight. He blinked back the droplets of rain that had collected on his eyelashes, squinting into the darkness. The muffled tapping of rain had obscured the word so that he could not determine whether it was actually spoken or if it had merely formed in his wishful mind. "Yugi!" he ventured, his voice rising over the relentless tapping of raindrops, "Yugi, can you hear me? Yugi! Answer me!"
He paused, ears alert and straining to catch even the faintest of sounds beyond the black curtain of rain. It was not long before he picked up on something; quiet as it was, he still managed to pinpoint it immediately.
"Where are you?"
Yami no longer hesitated but took off like a shot toward the fragile, broken whimper. This time he was certain he had heard something, a voice that sounded lost and alone but was irrefutably that of his hikari. "Yugi!" he shouted, cursing the wind as it carried his voice away in an instant. But suddenly it didn't matter, because he could now see the sprawled form lying partially beneath the overpass, beaten and bruised, breathing in ragged gasps beneath a flickering streetlight.
"Oh, Yugi…" he trailed off, gathering the boy into his arms, inhaling sharply at the icy sensation of his light's skin against his own. The boy let out a brittle, semiconscious cry as Yami lifted him effortlessly from the ground, holding him gently to his chest. "It's okay, little one, I'm here now. It's okay," he soothed, torn between his considerable anxiety and insatiable rage at whoever had done this. For the moment, however, Yugi was his primary concern. "Don't worry; you're safe now. We're going home."
---
"Uh…Taro? You done with the kid yet?"
The wary voice made its way into the alley, hitting bricks and bouncing back, a quiet yet blank sort of echo that contrasted deeply with the soothing lullaby of raindrops against the earth. The lullaby was all that Yugi could hear anymore, all that he wanted to hear. The voices in the background…he could identify those as voices, but he didn't understand them. The words meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was the cleansing patter of the rain, the far-away rumble of distant thunder, the drip and gurgle of gutters and sewers.
"Yeah, I'm done with the runt. I don't care what you do with him, but get rid of him, would you? Don't need old toys when there are so many new ones just waiting to be played with."
The worst of the storm had come and gone. For a while there was crashing thunder, blinding lightning, howling wind like a wounded animal. For a while the raindrops had transformed into miniature daggers, icy and penetrating, painful to the point of numbing. For a while there had been fear, fear so deep that it could not be measured, could not be accounted for, could not be explained. It could only be felt until feeling was no longer possible. For a while, it had hurt.
"Yeah, okay, Taro. Whatever you say. I'll toss him somewhere, get him out of the way."
It didn't hurt anymore.
"Be sure that you do."
This was the eye of the storm.
---
"Yugi? Please, wake up…"
The voice drifted into Yugi's ears, triggering something in his consciousness to respond with fluttering eyelids. This voice wasn't like the voices in his dream, remote and insignificant. This voice was warm and soothing and made him feel as if, maybe, it would be okay to give the world another chance.
"Yugi, can you hear me? Are you awake? Yugi?"
The boy almost opened his eyes at the words, but then the dream hit him with a wave of dizziness (or was that the throbbing pain in his head?) and made him want to stay there forever, in the darkness of closed eyes and selective hearing. The lullaby raindrops existed in that place, and he liked the lullaby raindrops. These did not have the power to hurt him or betray him, to force themselves upon him. These were safe. These were pure. Something he could claim no longer.
"Yugi, please. Please."
Oh, but… Yami's voice—for he recognized it now—was so broken and battered, yet all the while hopeful, ever hopeful, and soothingly warm. It was a comforting familiarity, Yami's voice. It was comforting in its steadiness, like the rain, and in its deeply regal rumbling, as with a gentle thunder. However, beneath all that, there was an air of pain and sadness; it was easy for the light to pinpoint the source of such distress. He was worried (as he was always worried) for his partner, his aibou. It broke Yugi's heart to hear the pain he was causing the former pharaoh.
Yugi opened his eyes.
---
"Oh, gods…" Yami lightly touched a damp towel to his hikari's forehead, gently wiping away the last of the blood as he stared into the shattered amethysts. If the condition of his clothes and the location of his bruises and bleeding had not made painfully clear the manner of Yugi's torture, the look in his eyes now confirmed it. Where there once had been innocence there was now only a haunted emptiness, an evident absence of purity. Yami wanted so much to take the pain away, make the boy's eyes playful and carefree, the way that they used to be. He wanted to kill whoever had hurt him in this way. He wanted a lot of things, but knew that, for the moment, only one thing needed to be done. Only one thing mattered.
As tears threatened eyes that rarely cried, slender yet strong arms reached out and gently embraced the boy, quieting the tremors that ran through his body. The pharaoh knew that his hikari needed someone to hold onto. And he also knew, partially by instinct and partially by the incredible attunement of their emotions, that to Yugi, he felt like home.
They stayed like that for the rest of the night, the younger curled like a cat in the lap of the ancient, wordlessly entwined to the soft melody of rain upon the roof.
---
"Sorry, kid, but Taro…he ain't all right in the head. I know this might sound pretty stupid, but you should consider yourself lucky. He did worse to the last kid. Hell, I don't even think the last kid is still alive. Committed suicide, I heard. Lost his mind. It could have been worse than what you got."
A fine mist hovered over the grass, a temporary halt between a gentle drizzle and the promise of further storminess. On the horizon, lighting crackled in silver forks, like a tree spreading luminescent branches across the sky for a single instant before crashing to the ground. However, in the remote edges of Domino Park, the storm was both a thing of the past and the future. In the present, there was only an uneasy calm, veiled in fog.
"Well, these are my orders. Gotta leave you here now. Sorry, kid, but remember: it could've been a hell of a lot worse than what you got. You're a lucky punk."
The boy curled in on himself, not caring that he had been dropped into an icy puddle in the shadowed edges of the park. If anything, the frigidness of the water cooled the pounding ache of his body, his head. Anyway, all he wanted to do was sleep. He couldn't remember where he was, why he was there, or even his own name. He knew only one thing: he just wanted to sleep…
---
"No, leave me alone!"
Yami's eyes snapped open immediately as he moved almost instinctively toward the crying boy. He cradled his hikari against himself in the darkness of the room, calming and quieting him with gentle words and a slight rocking motion. Within a few moments, the nightmare had receded into the shadows, allowing Yugi to settle once more into slumber. The pharaoh cast his gaze upon the sleeping face, worry creasing his brow as he brushed a stray hair from the pale skin.
It had been three weeks since the incident, and while Yugi put on a cheerful front during the day, at night his memories seemed to find a twisted sort of joy in haunting him. Yami had taken to sleeping in the same room so as to protect his light from both the nightmares and the darkness, where innocent shadows contorted into threats without a moment's notice.
"Be still, little one. It's okay. I won't let them hurt you ever again. I promise…"
---
"Hey, uh, boss…"
"What?"
The young man looked sheepish, as if he were worrying about something the others might deem incredibly stupid. However, he had already said something, and everyone was looking at him expectantly. He couldn't very well back off on it.
"You remember that kid from about a month ago? That night when we had the storm?"
The leader—Taro, he called himself—stroked his chin in recollection, a self-satisfied smirk upon his face. "Yeah, I remember that one. Angel eyes, he had. Real fighter. He was tops, that kid."
"Yeah, well…" the guy continued hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt a moment of memory and incur for himself another punishment, "I thought I saw that kid hanging around today. Only…"
Taro looked up, vaguely curious at the tone of his underling. "Only what?"
"Yeah," added another of the men, "You sound scared, Hiso. That little weakling got somethin' on you?"
Ruffled, the one called Hiso sighed and rubbed his head roughly. "I'm not scared of that punk. He just looked way different than I remembered; he seemed taller and his eyes were different. He just had a really weird vibe or something."
"Vibes, huh?" Taro smirked wickedly, tossing an empty beer can at him. "Cool it, Hiso, you sound like a schoolgirl. Still, if the kid changed so much, maybe I ought to give him another shot. See what he feels like now. Old toys can seem new if you polish 'em up real good, yeah?" Varied nods and grunts of agreement followed the boss's speech; although none of them were really into that kind of thing, they knew better than to cross their leader, as he could beat them all senseless with a hand behind his back. He was the leader for a reason, and they all knew it.
Taro looked around at his group of guys, as if daring them to object, all the while knowing they wouldn't risk it. "Then let's go find the punk, huh?"
"Save yourselves the trouble."
---
Yami stood, arms crossed over his chest, a particularly cold sort of fury present in his voice. His eyes, however, differed greatly in that they held something of a flame within their depths, fixed upon the scum before him. "The punk decided to find you instead."
The gang members, finding themselves unable to withstand the heated glare upon them, quietly slunk off toward the dimmest corners of their hangout, in more terror due to these new eyes than even Taro could invoke in them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this guy meant business, and most of the men were reasonably smart if morally lacking. Only the leader, still grinning confidently, managed to hold up against the intimidating aura that radiated from the kid. "That moron was right," he laughed predatorily, tobacco-stained teeth flashing, "You do seem different, punk. Come back for another round?"
A growl rose within the former pharaoh's throat; he could feel himself quivering in rage at the casual tone of voice used by Yugi's torturer. He hadn't just raped the boy; he had stolen his innocence and peace of mind. For the last month, Yami had been there to watch the pain his hikari went through, the nightmares and memories, the self-loathing and guilt. It tore him apart inside, and now this scum was just sitting there, chuckling over it.
"I deserved it. It was all my fault anyway. Who else could be so stupid?…"
Yami forced the voice from his mind, struggling to retain some level of calm. "How dare you talk about Yugi like that?" he whispered in a cool, deadly voice, hands forming fists of their own accord, "How dare you put him through what you did and laugh about it? What in your sick and twisted mind could possibly justify that to you?"
The mocking smile faded minutely. "What are you talkin' about? You not the kid or what?"
"No; he's never going to have to go through the experience of coming within ten miles of you ever again. You can be sure of that."
Confidence faded into confusion then back again, all within an instant. A new smirk grew to take the place of the previous; eyes glittered with malice. "Far as I can see, you're just as good. Not as pretty, but I like a little variety. Boys," he inclined his head, gaze flickering from the gang to the intruder, "Go get the punk."
"Afraid not," the pharaoh murmured in a parody of offhanded serenity, "The 'boys' won't be going anywhere for a while. It's just you and me…"
---
Warmth.
Yugi was conscious of the glow of sunlight streaming through his bedroom window, the first morning in weeks he had not woken to dreary, overcast skies. He was also conscious of arms wrapped protectively around him, adding to the coziness of the morning light. Memories of his dreams began to filter through his mind, slightly bizarre as dreams tended to be, but with a benign surrealism.
It was the first time in weeks he had slept without the plague of nightmares.
Beside him, Yami stirred slightly, eyes blinking carefully in the brightness of the room. As awareness returned fully, he sent a glance in his hikari's direction, a soft smile playing about his lips.
"Pleasant dreams?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad."
"Me, too."
The boy had laughed then, his pure, carefree laugh. The sound reverberated softly in the sunlit room, filling the space with a contentment that had been absent for some time. Yami's heart lifted and his smile widened; it seemed, after so long, that the wounds were beginning to heal.
It was the first time in weeks that anyone had heard that laugh.
---
"Taro, was it?"
The man nodded dumbly, unable to move any further. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he didn't like it. He was also acutely aware of a growing dislike for the kid standing before him, possibly due to the weird shit that was taking place in his hangout. Purple mist licked coolly at his ankles, ankles that, by the way, could not move. Along with most of the rest of his body.
"Let me tell you something, Taro. Today marks three weeks and four days since I found my hikari lying in a gutter, shivering and bleeding, looking like the world had fallen down around him. It also marks three weeks and three days since he first woke up sobbing in the middle of the night, haunted by the scars you left on his mind, pained by those you left on his skin. And, though the physical pain eventually faded, he spent roughly the last month imprisoned in his own mind by the filthy memory of what you did. However, today, you know what happened?"
He shook his head, glaring, an unspoken 'who cares' hanging in the air between the two figures. Yami ignored it.
"He laughed. For the first time since you robbed him of his innocence, he laughed. And I knew I could leave him there for a few hours without worrying. He'll be okay now."
With a great effort, the gang leader wrenched open his jaw, gruffly spitting words into the dusty air. "What do I care about that runt laughing?"
"Oh, you should care. You see, that laugh told me that he would be okay if I left him alone while I went to do something important. Something to make sure you never hurt him again." The pharaoh's lips twisted into a faint smirk, icy along the edges.
Faintly, the man paled. Yami continued talking as if he hadn't noticed.
"This time there are no games, no chances. This is a simple case of crime and punishment. I know what you did to an innocent. Do you deny it?"
A pause. The man struggled slightly, but to no avail. He could not lie in the presence of those piercing eyes. The truth spilled from him in a quiet rush. "No."
A half-sad, half-triumphant smile graced the ancient's face as he summoned the shadows, forming them to his will. He nodded infinitesimally, calmly. The rage was finally gone, it seemed. With this, he too could begin to heal.
"Goodbye."
Outside, a single gray cloud spread itself over the city, softly depositing a shower of gentle raindrops upon the earth below.
---
Yugi shifted slightly, adjusting his position beneath a tree in the middle of the park. Yami sat next to him, head resting on his shoulder with a tranquil expression on his face. The day was warm, with a slight breeze tossing the scent of a possible downpour over the city, ruffling the deep green tops of trees with each gust.
It had been four months. Four months since the attack. Three since the first laugh. Two months, a week, and five days since police discovered his tormentor dead in his hideout, abandoned by his gang and with no clear cause of death. Yugi glanced over at his dark, at the fluttering of his eyelashes, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He had a relatively clear idea of what had killed the man, but he didn't hold it against the pharaoh in any way. He knew the reasons behind the action. Yami didn't take human lives lightly; as far as Yugi knew, he had never killed anyone before. This situation was different from most. He knew, on some level, it was wrong. But on another, it was right. Not just for him, not just for Yami, but for everyone the monster had ever touched, had ever looked at.
It was right.
The pharaoh's eyes opened slowly as the first drop of rain splashed onto his forehead, warm and gentle. Yugi smiled at him softly, then turned his eyes toward the sky, watching, listening to the soothing patter of rain against the earth. Neither made any move to run for cover, as did most frequenting the outdoors that day. They just moved closer to one another, watching the tiny crystal droplets make their way down from the clouded blue of the sky.
They alone could understand the music of the rain.
---
Author's Note: Hey, people. Well, let me say, this isn't exactly the best story I've ever written, nor is it by any means my favorite. I suppose it was just a random bit of inspiration that I felt I should follow through on, though it underwent a number of revisions along the way. I'm not terribly pleased with the overall result as compared to my other stories, though that could be both my own discomfort with the touchy subject matter and the fact that I've spent the last few weeks staring at it. Anyway, though, I know my opinion, but I'd still be thrilled to hear yours. Review, please!
